


Daddy's Little Girl

by CYJB



Series: Grass Roots [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Grand Theft Auto, F/F, brief teeny tiny mention of jearmin, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CYJB/pseuds/CYJB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is Historia Reiss, the illegitimate daughter of Lod Reiss and heiress to the largest company in Los Santos. She strives to impress her father and honour his name and she just stole her father’s best car - Oh God she just stole her father’s best car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Your Depth

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw a prompt on the kinkmeme (http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/8414.html?thread=6765278) and couldn't help myself because I've been playing loads of GTA V recently. But because I'm lazy I've basically put the characters into that universe. Obviously there are minor adjustments for plot purposes but yknow. This is my first work for SNK so I hope I've got characterisation right. Concrit is very much encouraged and accepted!

There is something liberating about driving over the speed limit on the busy Los Santos roads. Wind is whipping through her long golden hair and the sun shines on her face as she successfully dodges oncoming cars and pedestrians. It would be liberating to most, she feels. However the blaring sirens that follow in her wake only put her on edge. Her knuckles are white from her grip on the wheel. She’s trying desperately to find a landmark she can identify. She completely lost herself once she made it out of Vinewood Hills. The familiar winding roads and expensive cars have been left behind. When she sees the Golf Club she lets out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She knows how to get onto the freeway from there. She glances in one of her mirrors, noticing that the police cars are falling behind her.

Thank God the car she stole was her father’s best.

She doesn’t stop driving for at least 15 minutes. She’s pulls off the highway and parks in a bay near a run down carwash. Finally Historia breathes. Her shaking hands are glued to the wheel as adrenaline continues to pump through her blood. This entire thing is ridiculous and she knows it. She can’t stop the trembling, breathy giggle that falls out of her dry lips. It gets stronger and louder as she stares at the bricked building in front of her. She stays like that for a few minutes, laughing at nothing and everything. 

She’s never done anything like this in her life. She is Historia Reiss, the illegitimate daughter of Lod Reiss and heiress to the largest company in Los Santos. She strives to impress her father and honour his name and she just stole her father’s black Banshee. Oh God she just stole her father’s black Banshee. 

The laughing stops and suddenly she’s lightheaded. Tears prick at her eyes at her own stupidity and anger. Her whole life she has done all she can to make her father proud, to make him love her instead of keep her at a distance and hide her from the world so as not to cause a scandal. “If word got out about my little _mistake_ ,” He once told her, “then my name, my business, everything I have will be sullied all because of _you_.” He spat the words at her before leaving her in a small, but expensive house in Rockford Hills with her grandparents. She hadn’t understood at the time. She was only eight. She didn’t know about sex and prostitutes and affairs. She didn’t understand that her father was a very important and influential man who had accidentally impregnated one of the many prostitutes hanging around Downtown. She didn’t realise that she was everything he never wanted. 

The tears now fall freely down her pink cheeks. Her face is red and blotchy as she racks out a heavy sob before turning back to hysterical laughter. There are three sharp knocks on the passenger-side door. Historia freezes at the noise, hands still clasped at the thick wheel of the car. She roles down the tinted window to see a dark skinned girl with a faced dotted with freckles smirking at her. 

“You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood,” The stranger laughs, “I’ll let you keep the car.” Before Historia can realise what’s happening the strange girl has opened the door and sat herself down in the passenger’s seat, shoving a large black duffle bag into the foot space in front of her. Her long, dark hair is tied in a ponytail which reaches the neck of her red t-shirt. Historia is just sat there in shock at what is happening. It’s surreal. She feels like she may be having another out-of-body experience just like she had earlier when she was throwing eggs at her father’s condo in- Oh God she totally forgot that _she egged her father’s house_.

“Shoot.”

The girl next to her snorts out a laugh. “What’s got your frilly knickers in a twist?” When Historia fails to respond the girl huffs irritably. “Can you take me to the pier? Thanks Blondie.”

“Wha-”

“Listen, I know this is a weird situation for you to be in, but I’m on a tight schedule and I need to get to the pier ASAP. On any other day, Id’ve taken this lovely piece for myself, as it is I can see you’re distressed and I’m not a total bitch so here’s the deal.” The girl turned towards the blonde. “You drive me to the pier, you keep the jacked vehicle. Alright?” She switches on the car GPS, plugs in the location and looks at Historia expectantly. 

The smaller girl leans back in her seat and looks ahead. Hands relaxing on the wheel, she takes a deep breath before restarting the ignition. 


	2. Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm halfway through writing chapter 4 for this and I think I can see fitting this plot line into five chapters. I may also do some one shots in this universe looking at other characters and stuff? I don't know yet. Enjoy!

They drive in silence for about a minute before Ymir grows bored. “So what’s your name Blondie?” Historia is somewhat taken aback by the question. She doesn’t yet feel comfortable using her real name (the police may be after her or she may be linked back to her father or maybe she’s ashamed of who she is, perhaps a mixture of all three). 

She thinks back to the last book she read for a fake name to give the stranger. After all, she’s never going to see her again, she doesn’t need to know.

“Krista.” Ymir’s eyes narrow at her for a second before accepting the answer. “Alright, Krista. I’m Ymir, nice to meet you.” Ymir obviously knows this conversation is going nowhere so she switches on the radio.

_“Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world. Like I'm the only one that you'll ever lo-”_

Ymir groans and changes the station.

 _“-Blonde woman was seen driving down from Vinewood Hills and was lost in Downtown Los Santos in a stolen black Banshee. The plate numbe-”_ Historia squeaks and turns the radio off quickly, only to have Ymir turn it back on, her hand shielding the controls.  _“-suspicious activity, persons or vehicles should be reported to the authorities immediately. Now, let’s hear a word from our sponsors.”_

Ymir laughs over an E-Cola advert. “So that’s why you were crying earlier, huh?” Historia’s eyes are wide as saucers as she continues to drive. “Listen, after we’re done at the pier, I can hook you up with a discount to get this thing off police radar, what do you say?”

Historia splutters slightly. “You mean- you mean you’re not going to report me?” she asks incredulously. Ymir shakes her head and Historia feels a mixture of shock and relief wash over her. On one hand, thank goodness she isn’t going to get arrested any time soon but on the other hand what kind of person just ignores such a felony? “Why?”

Ymir shrugs, “Maybe you’ll return the favor.”

Historia doesn’t have time to react to that though because she sees a bank in the distance and becomes aware that it would probably be a good idea to take out as much as she can before her father cuts her off. Ymir’s eyes widen when she sees how much money Historia has in her hands and Historia does hope that Ymir doesn’t try to take it from her. Maybe she should have more faith in her mysterious companion.

Once they arrive at the pier Ymir directs Historia into the busy carpark. Most spaces are filled up like usual, but Historia finds a space near one of the left-side buildings. “Hey, reverse it into this space, will ya?” Historia frowns, “I thought I was just dropping you off?” She doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question.

“Jeez, I’m just asking you to wait five minutes tops. Or did you want to spend the next five to ten years in a jail cell?” She knows that she probably shouldn’t be surprised by the threat, and she certainly isn’t surprised when she backs down and reverses into the parking space. Ymir’s lopsided grin calms her slightly. “Good. Now don’t move until I come back.”

Ymir hops out of the car, taking her black duffle bag with her. Through her car mirrors, Historia watches the tall girl run up the metal stairs attached to the property behind. However, when she reaches the top of the stairs, instead of going through the door, Ymir hops onto the stair railing and hauls herself onto the roof of the building. All the hairs on Historia’s body stand on edge. She feels that whatever Ymir is up to may not necessarily be legal.

Adrenaline pumps through her veins again and every slight movement of the world around her catches her attention. A small voice in the back of her head tells her she’s in trouble and her suspicions are confirmed when a single gun shot is fired, echoing through the pier and ringing in Historia’s ears. Screams can be heard from all around her. Bile rises in Historia’s throat as a few people in the parking lot jump back into their cars and drive away from the scene as fast as they can. Historia wishes she could do the same. She would if she weren’t waiting on Ymir. The passenger door opens and Ymir climbs in and yells at her to drive. The car launches into motion before the door closes.

The next ten minutes are a blur. Historia doesn’t think about where she’s going only that she needs to lose the people who are in her pursuit. Her back window has been shot out. Ymir broke the passenger window and is now shooting what looks like a rifle at their pursuers. She isn’t sure where the gun came from but she’s sure it’s got something to do with that black duffle bag. They’re deep in Los Santos county when Historia yells at Ymir to put the gun away. She really, really doesn’t want to get arrested also it’s really loud and kind of completely and totally scary. She’s never been this close to a gun before and maybe if Ymir stops shooting the bullets whizzing past her head may cease.

Ymir yells something that sounds like ‘over my dead body’ as Historia pulls a sharp turn and hiding the vehicle behind some kind of shop. Ymir pulls herself fully into the car and looks at Historia in disbelief. She’s about to yell that they’re gonna get arrested or killed when the sound of sirens and gun fire flies straight past them.

Ymir begins to laugh and cheer. “You’re a natural at this. Are you looking for work?” Historia doesn’t see the link between those sentences.

“What?”

“Are you looking for work?” She says it slower. Historia shoots her an annoyed look. She’s confused not deaf. 

“What kind of work?”

“Driving.” Ymir puts her gun back into the safety of her bag.

“Driving what?”

“Stolen vehicles, delivering them to our garage and possibly driving dealers around.”

Historia frowns. “Not like drug dealers, right?”

“I’m hungry.” The taller girl’s change of subject does not go unnoticed. Ymir plugs something into the GPS, ignoring Historia’s worried look. “Let’s get this thing fixed up and grab some burgers while we wait.”


	3. American Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Historia is finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just starting to write the final chapter so this will probably all be finished by the end of the week. Hope you've enjoyed reading so far! I'll put chapter 4 out tomorrow or Friday.

Historia parks the beaten up hunk of metal inside an auto repairs shop. It looks just like all the others she’s seen around Los Santos except for the manic brunette in front of her. Ymir climbs out of the car, Historia in tow. The blonde goes to introduce herself but the stranger runs straight past her and launches themselves at the hood of the car with an excited screech and starts mumbling to it.

Before Historia has a chance to question it, a small man appears in front of her, face void of emotion. She takes a step back as a chill runs through her spine. “What the hell do you shitty brats want now.” It’s not a question. At least it’s hard to tell with his disinterested tone. His eyes haven’t left hers. Her gaze darts around the room under his scrutiny. 

“We need a repair, paint job, plate change and bulletproof tires. The usual.” Ymir seems so relaxed in front of him, counting her demands on one hand.

His scowl shifts to Ymir. “You selling?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Hanji!” He calls out, “Get your tears of the bonnet you freak.”

“But Levi!” Their eyes glaze over, “I’ve never seen a model so recent and look at that matte finish!” Their hands run over the disfigured car and they let out a cry. “How could you do this! How could you maim such a beautiful specimen!” 

The younger girls turn back to Levi. “It’ll be done within an hour.” A chocked sob is heard from behind them as Hanji discovers the back wheels have been shot out. “Maybe two.”

Ymir grabs hold of Historia’s hand and links their fingers together as she pulls her out the door. “Text me.” She yells.

“Pull yourself together shitty glasses, we’ve got work to do.”

Historia smiles to herself at the feeling of Ymir’s hand in hers but quickly corrects that thought and drops the offending hand. Her fathers words ring out in her mind, _“It’s not natural. If you ever marry anyone it will be a respectable gentleman.”_

She stops herself. She can do it if she wants to. Her father is no longer around to scold her or reprimand her behavior. She grasps Ymir’s hand again.

* * *

They’re sat in a secluded corner in Burger Shot, quietly eating their food which Ymir had generously paid for. She’s never had food like this before. It’s greasy and delicious and she can’t help but wonder why her grandparents never let her eat this kind of food when it’s so amazing. They’ve been sat in silence for five minutes before Historia caves and quietly asks, “Who did you kill?” She hadn’t stopped thinking about it. 

Ymir frowns, watching the blonde carefully and she feels her cheeks heat at the intensity of the gaze. She wonders if Ymir ever blushes, and if she does if the freckles on her face stick out more? “Does it matter?” Historia frowns because she supposes that to her it may not personally matter. His death has had no upsetting impact on her life, but then again, it does matter. It has to matter, else why would Ymir kill him?

She settles on a simple yes. Ymir nods in respect. “His name was Marcel. A member of a rival gang who needed to be taught a lesson.”

“What lesson?”

“That they messed with the wrong crew.” Ymir slurps her soda through her straw loudly.

“So you’re in one?” Historia asks, amazed.

“One what?”

“A crew. A gang.”

“Yes.”

Historia gets a little excited at that idea. After living such a sheltered life, it’s all crumbled in a day because of this one girl who is the opposite of Historia. Ymir is confident and smart and gets things done. She feels like she’s spent her whole life trapped inside high walls built and guarded by her father and suddenly Ymir has come and knocked them all down. There’s nothing her father can do about it and its entirely liberating. 

“What’s your crew called?”

“The 104th.” Ymir is smiling proudly, but Historia deflates a little.

“What are you the 104th of?”

The smile on Ymir’s falters before disappearing completely. “Eat your damn fries.”

They walk along the Downtown streets, not taking anything in. Historia is just enjoying her new-found freedom when Ymir suggests Historia should change her look up a little bit so the cops don’t call her a suspect. The blonde knows this is true. Besides, by now her father must be sure it was her who stole his car and egged the second most expensive house in Los Santos. She knows that he won’t stop until she is found and discreetly brought to justice in case she starts a dreaded scandal. Also apparently it’s impractical to fight a gang war in a skirt. 

Sixty minutes and a haircut later, Historia decides this is the best day ever. She had never been allowed to choose her own clothes. Even at the age of twenty-three she had packages delivered to her door, already bought by her father. He was still buying her clothes that an eight year old might wear. All flowery dresses floaty skirts. It was nice on occasion when she wanted to feel like a princess, but when she just wanted to mope about and relax it was a challenge, especially when she just wanted a pair of shorts or jeans. 

She had a feeling it was because he had absolutely no idea about what a teenage girl would wear. It was also probably a futile attempt to keep her sheltered and stop her from becoming one of the famous ‘hot messes’ often found in Los Santos. Historia didn’t think he had any right to judge what they chose to do with their lives, but when she said this it wasn’t well received and wasn’t allowed out of the house for two months, with or without her chaperone. Besides, most of the women Historia had seen so far were wearing jeans, shorts or trousers. They weren’t all hot messes. They weren’t disgracing their families.

Now, she’s stood on the street without a chaperone, in her own clothes and she’s finally cut her hair. Her golden hair has been cut to a few inches below her shoulders instead of down to her hips and she had it lightened slightly so that it’s even blonder and shines in the sun. She’s wearing high heels! She can’t really walk in them very well and she hears her grandmother scolding her for wearing ‘hookers shoes’ somewhere in the back of her head, but they’re baby pink patent and she looks super cute in them with her light denim jeans (she’s wearing _trousers_!) and a shirt that’s not only sleeveless but also has a neckline that’s not nearly suffocating her. This is Krista. She isn’t Historia anymore. She is a new person, with a future and her own clothes who could make her own decisions. It’s like hitting the surface after being held underwater too long.

Krista looks and feels colourful for the first time in her life while Ymir carries her bags full of new clothes, smiling at the sight. She notices the way Ymir's eyes crease at the corners when she smiles like that. It seems like a fond smile, not the smirk she’s worn most of the day. Krista feels heat traveling to her cheeks and she’s not entirely sure why. Ymirs phone makes a noise then, bringing both girls out of their reveries.

“That’s Levi.” Ymir tells her. “C’mon Krista, your car’s nearly ready.”

Within ten minutes they arrive back at Levi’s garage to find the two mechanics bickering loudly over something. 

“Hey, Levi,” Ymir calls as the two enter the garage. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, eh?”

The small man’s scowl doesn’t falter when he turns to Ymir. He looks up at her with a world-weary sigh. “Hanji wouldn’t let me respray that huge metal shit until the blonde brat decided on a colour.” He turns to Krista who feels panic prick the back of her neck. Fight or flight is going to kick in soon, she can feel it. And she’s pretty sure her body would choose the latter. “What’s your name?”

“H-Krista.”

“Krista, tell me what colours you want this in so I can get on with my fucking work.”

Hanji interrupts, “But we don’t have any other customers right now.”

Levi lets out a frustrated growl from the back of his throat. He looks behind to address them. “And that’s the way I like it.” He spins back around to the girls. “We’ve repaired all damages, installed bulletproof tires. We even installed a bulletproof panel for the back window to offer some protection. It’ll cost a little extra, but its better in the long term. We’ve also changed the number plate as requested. I also took the liberty of changing the shitty horn. It was some obnoxious song. Now it’s just a standard horn. I won’t charge for it. That was for my own benefit. Now. Colours?”

Krista settles on a black gloss body with a matte red stripe down the centre. She’s already seen quite a few sports cars that look like it in Los Santos, but she thinks thats okay. It looks kind of beautiful. Hanji seems to agree as they’re caressing the roof, pressing as much of their body against the vehicle as they can manage. Levi’s yells are heard through the shop (“I just finished waxing that. If I find one spec of dirt or grime I’ll gonna slice you in half!”) and Historia can’t help but chuckle to herself. She’s sat on a bench next to Ymir, their shoulders pressed together and her bags at her legs.

For the first time in a long time, she feels at home.


	4. Derailed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir reflects. Krista opens up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is called derailed because thats what happened to me when I was trying to edit it.

Ymir is concerned for this girl. It’s obvious that Krista has been sheltered her entire life and has no idea what the real world is like. Ymir is not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that _she_ of all people was the first person Krista has met who isn’t related to her. She’s probably knows more about this city than Armin does, so in that respect she’s a good teacher for Krista. However she is also wanted for multiple accounts of murder and theft. That may be a mark against her. 

Looking over at Krista now, Ymir can barely stop the laugh that bubbles from her throat. This is not how she expected her day to go. She expected to wake up, eliminate her target then get back to the safehouse and kick Jean’s ass in Mario Kart or go to the shooting range and let off some steam. Instead she’s in the passenger seat of a beautiful girl’s car on the way to her own house. 

Ymir could tell quite easily that the blonde wasn’t thinking in the long term, so Ymir thinks two steps ahead and then three steps more because Krista needs the help. Without Ymir by her side today, this innocent girl would probably be in prison and have been made someones bitch by the end of next week and someone this angelic doesn’t deserve that. That’s the reason Ymir is letting Krista sleep at her place.

At least that’s what Ymir keeps telling herself but to be honest, it’s like watching a baby deer take its first steps and Ymir wants to watch every tumble so she can fix any wounds and be there when she finally gets the hang of it and starts walking with confidence. Maybe it’s because Krista is cute, or maybe it’s because Ymir wishes that she had someone like that when she first found herself on the streets alone. Ymir knows that she’s a hard-ass and a bitch, but she gets shit done. She figured out the hard way not to rely on people and that you should be independent until you can’t move forward without allies. Watching Krista singing along quietly to the Britney Spears filtering through the speakers, Ymir knows it’s a mixture of all these things keeping her from letting this girl fall down, even if she won’t admit it to herself yet. 

It’s still light out when they pull up in to the little cul-de-sac that has been claimed by the 104. The houses are pretty much identical with some deviation in colour. Ymir’s is on the left side, two doors down from the main base of operation. The cars in the area are mostly of the same colour; a deep forest green some even have the decal of their logo - the wings of liberty. Ymir feels pride when she drives her own crew vehicle. It feels good to be a part of something bigger, something that is growing and making change. She knows she needs to report into Armin, but she wants to get Krista settled into her home first. 

She pulls the blonde in, arms directing where certain rooms are. She notices Krista’s eyes widen at the bong on the coffee table and Ymir internally curses Sasha for not clearing up. “That’s not mine.” Ymir isn’t sure why she feels the need to clarify this but she is glad she did when Krista offers that beautiful smile of hers in return. “Hey, I need to talk to someone real quick but make yourself at home. We’ve only got five channels and there may not be much in the fridge but help yourself.” 

The house in the centre of the close is bigger than the rest with an extra floor and a two car garage. It looks more regal and holds more presence than the beat up buildings that surround it. Ymir opens the door and is greeted by the delicious smell of fast food and weed. It’s familiar and homey. She walks into the kitchen to find Armin, his reading glasses near falling off his nose talking to Jean in hushed tones but Armin stops the conversation immediately in favor of greeting Ymir.

Armin Arlert is probably the sneakiest little shit ever to grace the planet. He’s always ten steps ahead of everyone else. He knows what you’re going to say before you’ve even thunk it and he always gets the best out of any situation he can. He’s surprisingly clever and cunning. At first you may see the kid and wonder how the hell a weak as fuck 5’4” scrawny blond boy ended up leading one of the most powerful gangs Los Santos, but once you hold a conversation with the guy it’s pretty obvious. He’s the most intelligent person Ymir has ever met - he was supposed to go study at one of the big universities but couldn’t afford the fees so settled on teaching himself. He’s got this whole ‘holier-than-thou’ feeling about him when he addresses you, unless you’re in his crew, then he’s all smiles and cute button noses and baggy cardigans. 

Those are some of the scariest people in Ymirs opinion. They’re the type who never raise their voice and when they threaten you it’s a serious warning. Armin has scared plenty into doing his bidding through fear and Ymir kind of loves him for it. 

Not that she’d ever voice that thought, she’d got a reputation to uphold. 

“Things went well I assume?” He pushes his glasses up his nose and starts to prepare her a drink. 

Ymir sits herself down at the kitchen table, propping her feet up on the old wooden table, gaining her a dirty look from Jean. “He’s dead. But I’m sure you already know that Armin.” She offers a wry smile.

The blond chuckles to himself. “You know me well Ymir.” The news is always on either the TV or radio when not being used and Armin is constantly checking online so of course he knows. He puts a glass down in front of her and takes the seat opposite. He sips at his tea while she drinks her coke. Jean mutters an excuse and leaves the room.

“So,” She sets the glass down on the table. “What’s up next for me?”

“Right now, nothing but we’ve caught wind of a possible transaction that may take place up at Sandy Shores later in the week. Big haul, big pay off but that means big defense. We’re going to try get both money and the merchandise so you won’t be alone.” He takes a sip. “We’re hearing it’s going to occur Friday, midday but that is subject to change. Be prepared for a call anytime this week. I’d suggest stocking up on ammo. There’ll be two teams, you’ll be with Eren. He’ll be driving while you provide covering fire, snatch the car with the cash then bring it back here where we’ll distribute it accordingly.” He takes another sip of tea before asking, “Do you have any questions?”

“Who’s the other team?”

“Jean and Marco.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Naturally.” She downs her drink and takes her leave.

When she arrives back at her house she doesn’t expect to find Krista enthralled by that dumb reality show no one will shut up about. Ymir leans in the doorway to the living room and watches for a while. Krista has ignored the couch and instead sits cross legged directly in front of the small TV which emits a gaudy blue glow in the dark room. She’s straining upward slightly for the best view of the tiny screen and keeps letting out these tiny noises in reaction to the show which out of context would definitely sound sexual. Ymir wonders if she could get those noises out of Krista too. She mentally curses herself for that thought. Of course Krista is fucking gorgeous but _damn, Ymir, why have you got to make it weird?_

She breaks her train of thought and clears her throat to catch the blonde’s attention. Krista jumps and turns around, fear is etched on her features, but when she sees it’s Ymir, she visibly relaxes and fright is replaced with a smile that out shines the TV. “This show is so strange. Do people honestly act like this or is this all just acting?”

“A mix of both. Hey, you can sleep in my bed tonight, I’ll take the floor. I’m just gonna go upstairs and-”

“You don’t have to!” Krista stands up. “I can take the floor or the couch. You don’t have to do that for me.”

Ymir pushes off the doorframe. “I know,” she somehow manages to keep her cool when she says, “I want to.”

Ymirs room is a fucking mess. There are clothes strewn all over the dark red carpet. There are potato chips spilling out of a tipped over bowl. Even the walls look messy, plastered with posters of hot girls in bikinis and random pictures of the 104 and banners with dumb, embarrassing slogans like 'THIS IS OUR CITY,' And, 'BITCHES GET STITCHES.' There’s a small bed with the sheets all mussed up partially revealing half Ymir’s underwear draw and maybe she shouldn’t have let Krista come up with her.

Krista joins Ymir upstairs to keep the taller girl company as she makes herself a bed of a thousand pillows and moth-eaten blankets. Ymir can’t take the silence anymore and looks over to the blonde sat on her bed, legs swinging slightly as she takes in the room. “Something’s been on my mind since you kindly offered me a ride to the pier.”

“You jumped into my car without permission!” Krista giggles

Ymir waves away the thought, “Semantics.” She sits herself down on the floor, cross-legged, looking up at Krista. “Whose car did you steal?” Ymir kind of regrets asking because suddenly Krista’s legs stop swinging and he head drops but not before Krista’s face distorts into sadness. “I’m sorry.” Ymir is already brushing it off and desperately trying to think of an alternate topic of conversation. “That’s probably a little personal.”

They sit in silence for half a minute and Ymir thinks her head might explode with how hard she’s trying to think of a different question when Krista says, “My fathers.” Ymir looks up at her. Krista’s eyes are still focussed on her knees, but her face is now in a frown. “You’re probably wondering why I’d steal my own fathers car, right?”

And well yeah, she fucking hit the nail on the head but Ymir knows how to read the room and wasn’t going to actually ask, but if Krista’s offering up the information she ain’t gonna say no. “Yes.”

“He’s out of town with my tutor-slash-chaperon. He started sleeping with her recently you see and decided to take her for a weekend getaway like he always does with his mistresses. He’s back tomorrow. My grandparents were out buying food or something and it seemed like the best time to- I don’t know.” She raises her head slightly, gaze still trained on her knees. “All my life has been is rules set by him in order to keep his facade intact.” Her sad eyes seek Ymirs. “I’m his bastard. He knocked up some prostitute and eight years later when she told him about me he hired someone to kill us. The man killed my mother, but my father stopped him from killing me for some reason. Maybe he couldn’t watch an innocent child die, maybe he didn’t want to live with that guilt but he made me change my life and he abandoned me. I was sent to live with my grandparents under lock and key. He provides for me. Well he did.” She wipes away tears from her eyes. “I was so naive. I thought that if I did what he said that he would learn to love me but in reality it just meant that he tolerated me. I think I did this to show him that I’m not an eight year old girl anymore and that I won’t stand for this kind of attitude towards me.” She hitches her legs onto the bed and hugs her calves. “I deserve better. I don’t deserve to be tolerated. I just want to be loved.”

Ymir would be lying if she said she expected... that. “So why did he keep you sheltered from the world?”

“I don’t really know but, I think he was scared that if I was exposed to the world I’d end up ‘white trash’ and soiling his name. All he cares about is his freaking company and the next woman he can get into his bed.” 

“You’re dad’s a pretty important guy, huh?” Ymir asks.

“I’ve lied to you.” Ymir frowns and the blonde has the decency to blush at the confession. “My name isn’t really Krista. I was born Historia Reiss but I wasn’t ready to tell you that but I’d still prefer you to call me Krista.”

Ymir snorts at that. “Why? Your name is Historia, may as well use it. If you become a famous criminal mastermind then you’ll definitely taint your Papi’s precious status.”

“Yes but, well I want a new beginning with a new identity. I want to leave the past behind me for now. I’m sorry.” Krista’s legs are swinging again and she doesn’t look sad at least, only apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to apologise to me for nothing.”

There’s a silence walking the line between companionable and awkward while Krista shuffles back on the bed so her back is flush against the wall and her feet dangle off the edge. Ymir looks at the clock on her phone. It’s 8pm and she realizes that they haven’t had anything to eat in six hours. She gets on her feet and drags the blonde downstairs with her promising her food. “I hope you like omelets cause that’s all I can be bothered to cook right now and we’ve got a fuckton of eggs.”

By the time they’re both tucking into their meals, the tension from before has vanished. “Where did you learn to drive like that?” Ymir’s driving is not the best and she knows that when put behind the wheel it’s likely someones gonna end up with a broken neck, especially if she’s trying to lose the cops.

“My chaperone taught me to drive for my test.” 

Ymir has been told many times that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full, she’s never taken the hint until now. She doesn’t want Krista to think she’s a _total_ pig. She swallows her mouthful before talking again. “You’re telling me that you know basic old person driving. You realise that the shit you were pulling earlier was not part of your lessons right? I’d remember if there was a part of the test for weaving in and out of oncoming traffic.”

“I just did what felt natural. This omelet is really good by the way. Thank you.”

In that moment Ymir kind of wants to marry this girl. She blushes for some dumb reason and stutters out a thank you. Who is this fucking nice? Marco’s polite but Ymir wouldn’t say he does everything out of the kindness of his heart. Krista always seems to mean what she says and probably doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Ymir can think of a few bones she could definitely put in Krista’s body and _holy hell Ymir keep it in your pants_ , she thinks to herself. With Krista’s sheltered as fuck upbringing she’s probably the straightest person in a five mile radius. So Ymir decides to ask her what she thinks about same-sex marriage becoming legal in their state. It isn’t subtle but at least it’s to the point. 

She’s surprised at Krista’s enthusiastic response. The blonde claims that she was so excited when she heard about it on the news because everyone deserves a chance at love. “When growing up I was told it was wrong and abnormal.” Ymir isn’t surprised in the slightest. “And when I spoke out about it I was shot down by my grandparents. They wanted to send me to a correction camp and everything but-”

“Wait.” There is no way Ymir heard that right. “They wanted to send you to a correction camp, because you’re into girls?” Did Christmas come early? There must be a god somewhere who doesn’t think Ymir is a total piece of shit. What a comforting thought.

Krista’s blush pulls Ymir out of her thoughts. “When I was about ten, I watched this movie and the two leads kissed and I wanted to do that with the girl who lived next door to me, so I picked the daisies from the front lawn, tied them together in a mini bouquet and gave them to the girl, asking if she would be my girlfriend. It didn’t go down very well.”

Ymir feels her faith in God may have just been restored.


	5. Show Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krista finally meets the 104th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I had exams and hurt my left leg pretty badly so I didn't have much time to write. Also, I've added another chapter because I kind of just wanted to get this out now. The next chapter might not be as long. Who knows? I haven't written it yet. Thank you for your patience, kudos and for reading!

Krista wakes early in the morning like she always has done. She finds Ymir spread eagled on the floor snoring gently, drool drying on the side of her mouth. Krista giggles at the sight before she smooths her hair down and climbs out of bed. Ymirs scent is so potent in the room Krista doesn’t particularly want to leave, but she also wants to make it up to Ymir for all she’s done so far. Krista goes downstairs with the intent of making breakfast. After looking through the cupboards she finds some pancake mix and starts cooking while humming to herself. She’s so wrapped up in the task she doesn’t hear the front door open or even the loud footsteps thundering down the hall. Someone behind her yelling “Are you an angel?” does catch her attention.

Krista jumps and turns to find a brunette girl panting heavily. She clutches the doorframe, her messy ponytail covering her face. “Um.” Krista manages to get out before the girl crushes her in a hug. The brunette starts rubbing her face into Krista’s chest and muttering words of love and praise. The blonde freezes, spatula in the air. 

“Sasha.” Ymir walks into the kitchen with a grumpy expression, far different to the calm face she had whilst sleeping not ten minutes ago. “Get the fuck off.” Krista thinks that if looks could kill that Sasha would be dead. Butterflies consume Krista’s stomach when Ymir smiles at her in apology. Then the taller girl continues to shoot daggers at Sasha, now far, on the other side of the room. “I didn’t think you were here until next week.” Ymir asks Sasha as she pours herself some orange juice. 

Krista goes back to the pancakes, listening intently to the conversation behind her.

“Armin called last night. He wants to talk numbers. I just got here though, left Blaine Country real early so I’m tired and real hungry.” Krista can’t see, but Sasha has a hopeful smile plastered on her face. 

“Gross as hell too.” Ymir pushes Sasha out of the room, “Take a shower.” Sasha’s groans, her protests filter into the kitchen from the hall. The sound of footsteps confirms she has taken Ymirs advice. 

Krista feels weight and warmth push against her back. Ymir’s smell engulfs her as the taller girl wraps her arms around Krista’s waist, resting her chin on top the others blonde hair. She leans back into the contact with a small smile.

“Thanks for making breakfast.” And then Ymir is gone. Krista would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed. 

Sasha runs back into the kitchen from her shower just as Krista is putting the pancakes onto three plates. They  sit in silence except for Sasha’s disgusting eating noises and Ymir’s compliments of the meal. Sasha doesn’t take long to finish and when she does she leaves the house without a word.

This is a strange place Krista has found herself in, she thinks. Perhaps all people are like this, but she just never knew because she’s never really met people. Perhaps her family are the strange ones. Well, they’re definitely strange because who ignores their children for twenty-three years? But then again perhaps these people are also strange as they steal and kill. It’s all quite exciting and dangerous and bizarre, but she thinks she likes it. Besides, she’d like to be anywhere Ymir is. 

When they finish breakfast it’s already 9am and Ymir informs her of a busy day ahead starting with a refill on ammo. Ymir drives this time in a beat up pick up truck in the 104’s forest green. The white wings are on the hood of the truck Krista notices, making it obvious where Ymir belongs. It gives out a message to anyone who sees it that its something to be proud of. Ymir is definitely proud.

Ymir can’t drive and its a miracle that the truck is still in tact 

When the arrive at the gun store, Ymir goes to the counter, chatting with the clerk, admiring the pieces on the wall behind. Left to her own devices, she looks at the body armor on the wall. She's comparing physical and aesthetic differences when a large blond man leans on the counter next to her with an easy smile. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, huh?” Krista is startled so he tries a different approach. “You got a name?”

She relaxes for some reason when her eyes meet his. “Krista. Yours?”

“I’m Reiner, pleasure to meet you.” He glances over towards Ymir before shifting his gaze back. “Tell me something Krista, you with Grumpy over there?” Before Krista has time to reply, Ymir has finished her sale and turns to see Reiner talking to Krista and storms over, eyes blazing. Reiner smiles as he greets her, “It’s been a while, how’re things with you?”

“Peachy.” From her tone everything right now is the complete opposite of peachy. The taller girl grabs Krista’s hand and smiles pointedly at the man in front of them. “We’re pretty busy so we should go. Places to be, people to see.” 

Before Ymir can turn and drag Krista out of the store Reiner asks “Will we see you at the race tonight?” Ymir eyes narrow at him. Krista isn’t sure if its our of anger or suspicion. 

She doesn’t expect Ymir to then laugh in the face of the guy ten times her size in muscle. “Yes.” She smiles. “And get ready to suck my dick because we’ve got a new driver and they’re gonna make Annie their fucking dust.” Ymir smiles at Krista like they’re both sharing a joke but the blonde can’t help but feel that she’s just as much a part of it as Reiner. Finally Ymir pulls the smaller girl out of the shop after her and into Ymir’s beat up truck sat waiting for them.

“God I fucking hate that guy!” Ymir exclaims climbing into the vehicle. “Who the fuck does he think he is smiling at me like that like we’re best friends? Is he fucking kidding me?” She scowls all the way home, occasionally huffing and sighing. Krista has no clue how to deal with this. How do you comfort someone when they’re like this?

“So your crew has a great new driver?” Krista asks, trying to take Ymir’s mind off of Reiner. Ymir nearly crashes into a traffic light.

“Technically, not yet but depending on how the next hour goes it's a possibility.” Krista tries to give a questioning look but for once Ymir’s now blushing face decides to stay trained on the road. 

When they pull up outside Ymir’s house, the smaller girl is surprised when it’s not her house they go into. Ymir directs her to the largest house in the close. It’s a light yellow color with flower beds outside the windows and a small yet broken path leading to the front door. It isn’t the cleanest house, but it seems to hold a certain charm and intimidation. Krista doesn’t know what to expect when Ymir opens the door but she doesn’t expect to be greeted with what she is - nothing.

Ymir unlocks the door and walks in, Krista following behind. The house seems void of life until she hears the yells and curses coming from the room to their right. The taller girl pulls Krista into a room filled with people staring at a large screen in front of them. They all seem to be playing some kind of game, too enraptured to notice their new company. She watches them play. It’s a colourful screen with small characters running around. She thinks she recognizes it as Mario or something like that.

It looks like there are five of them playing and the other two are just watching, laughing and enjoying the show. There are only two girls in the room besides herself and Ymir, Krista notices. Sasha is there, hollering and laughing as she watches the spectacle before her. The other girl has long black hair and a red scarf fashioned around her neck. She has a determined look on her face as she focusses on the screen but often sends a scowl towards a tall looking man with an undercut. He has a long face and a smaller blond person in his lap. The one with the undercut is cackling to himself, tapping on a small screen in his hand. It looks like one of those tablets Krista has seen advertised. The blond in his lap has his bottom lip pouting out and protesting, asking 'if you could stop killing Eren'. Krista assumes the one who keeps yelling at ‘Jean’ to stop killing him is Eren. He has a fierce look in his eye and is gripping his controller so tight Krista's worried it might snap in half. Every yell only causes Sasha and the bald one to laugh harder. The bald one seems to be racing ahead much to Sasha’s encouragement, laughing where he sits on the floor. The other one in the room not playing is a freckled man with skin dark like Ymir’s. He watches the screen fondly, laughing at the running commentary and sometimes scolding Jean. He’s the one that notices Ymir and Krista in the doorway.

“Oh.” Falls out of his mouth in surprise before a warm smile spreads across his face. “Hi Ymir!” He seems genuinely pleased to see her. “Who’s your friend?” Sasha notices them and in excitement bounds over to envelope Krista in a bone crushing hug. By the time she’s released from the deathly grip, she notices someone has paused the game and all eyes are on her. 

She opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Eren standing up and storming over towards the two girls.“What the fuck Ymir? You want to bring a fucking stranger into our fucking Sanctuary?”

The rest of the room are now on their feet, the small blond trying to stop him. “Eren-”

“What if she’s a god damn Titan, huh? What if she’s a fucking narc!”

Eren either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care about half the room yelling at him to calm down. He grabs Krista’s wrist tight, but then his grip loosens as he falls to the floor and his nose begins to swell and bleed. His hand rises to his now aching face and looks up to see Ymir looming over him, fuming.

“Next time you touch her, I’ll aim lower.”

There’s this weird silence as no one is sure how to proceed from here. The blond who tried to stop his friend takes charge. “Let’s move to the kitchen and have a calm chat, shall we? Jean,” he turns to the person whose lap he was sat in one minute ago. “Could you please see to Eren’s nose and check Ymir’s knuckles while we all talk?” Jean nods and disappears to collect the first aid kit they have while the blond leads them to what looks like a small conference room. “My name is Armin,” he tells Krista with a smile.

“Krista.” She replies

 

* * *

 

Jean gets why Eren is so worked up, he does. This group has been through a lot, especially with the incident two years ago. Some rival gang who went by the name of The Titans had infiltrated their crew resulting in the death of some of their comrades. Eren just wanted to make sure his family was safe now and ensure that they didn’t lose anyone again. Yet, Jean thinks as he confirms Eren’s nose is not broken, he still needs to get a hold of his emotions. 

Jean doesn’t think Krista seems like a threat, but he isn’t exactly going to welcome her into the fold. Her story seems legit and Ymir’s fierceness makes the situation feel safe. Jean is stood next to Krista while he cleans the graze of Ymir’s knuckles. She really hit that suicidal bastard hard. He can’t help but smile at that, even though he doesn’t completely trust Ymir himself. 

Any trust he has for the woman goes out the window when she suggests that Krista join the 104th.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” - “Ymir, that seems a little rash.” - “Is that a good idea?” The room fills with chatter and protest, but as always, when Armin speaks there is silence.

“If you can prove to us that you are who you say you are, and as good a driver as Ymir boasts, you will earn your place with us. If that is what you want.” Jean feels wary, but he trusts Armin’s judgement. Armin was suspicious of Annie when they let her join the 104. He wasn’t wrong then so why should he be wrong now?

The small girl looks so vulnerable sat in the middle of their huge conference table, Ymir tall and scowling next to her. When Krista looks up at Ymir and says, “Yes,” any suspicions Jean has of Krista being untrue disappears. 

Krista is in love. With Ymir of all people but Jean knows a look of love when he sees one. It’s the same way his parents looked at each other. It’s the same way Mina looked at Marco. It’s the same way he looks at Armin. 

“I know you’re all cautious because of what happened with Annie,” Ymir says. “But Krista is not like that. She’s not a good enough actress to lie as well as Annie. I’m as wary as the rest of you are when it comes to even thinking about inviting in new members. But I promise you that I wouldn’t put what we have in jeopardy if there was even a small possibility because it’s the only fucking thing I got.”

Armin gives one of his small smiles to Ymir that says he accepts her terms, but wants the others to share their views. 

To everyone's surprise, it’s Mikasa who speaks up first. “There’s a race tonight by the airport. Marco entered his name an hour ago. If Krista enters and beats Annie then I will consider her an asset to the group. We can do further background checks afterwards.” Everyone then turns to Eren. As annoying as he is, he holds authority over the group. He, Armin and Mikasa started this whole thing, so they’ve always had the final say. 

“I don’t know.” He says and Jean feels his stomach drop because holy fuck they don’t have time for this. “If your story is true, then you’ve got a lot to fucking learn, and we haven’t got the time to teach you how this shit works. Besides, we all learnt from the best teacher there is; the streets. You’d get eaten alive.”

Ymir stands. “I’m gonna show her everything I know. Besides, yesterday she managed to steal a car and lose the damn police who were on her so she’s got the potential, let her show you.” The two hold a tense gaze and Jean knows Eren is gonna break first because he always does. 

“Fine.” The idiot grits out His gaze turns to Krista. “You have to beat that Titan scum before I even consider you though.”

The determination in her face when she accepts the terms makes Jean believe that maybe this is a good idea. 

Krista feels herself relax as people begin to file out of the room. Ymir stays behind with her, a tight smile on her face. The freckled man from earlier lingers, pulling Jean back from the retreating group and walking towards the her.

“I’m Marco,” He smiles warmly which is a nice change from the hostility that filled the room. “And this is Jean. I just thought I’d offer help if you need any prep for the race tonight.”

Krista nods enthusiastically. She doesn’t really know what she’s getting into and practicing with someone who has experience seems like a good idea. Ymir apparently disagrees.

“She doesn’t need practice, she’s a fucking natural!” The taller girl fumes.

“It wouldn’t hurt Ymir.” Marco places a soft hand on Krista’s shoulder. “I know a place we can go practice. You can sit with me in the car, I’ll show you a few things then we can see how you do.”

“This is bullshit!” Ymir yells, hands flying in the air in outrage. “She was in two fucking car chases yesterday and did amazingly. She got the cops off her tail with ease.”

Jean scoffs. “While that’s impressive, it’s a totally different environment to a drag race.”

“They’re right Ymir.” Krista’s voice takes the darker girl by surprise. She feels bad because she knows Ymir cares but “It would be good to at least practice before hand. I’m sure they’ll let you some watch too?” She asks the guys. 

Before Jean or Marco can open their mouths in protest Ymir beams at Krista, pulling her into a side hug. “That’s so sweet of you, of course I’ll come!”

An hour later, Krista has been entered into the race and is now stood at the docks watching Marco speed and drift easily around trailers and metal crates. The slick car hugs the bends and dodges any obstacles with ease. Krista feels a small heat build in her stomach as the taste of acid rises to her throat. There is no way she’s going to be able to reach that level of perfection. She’s not going to make it out of this race alive, or even if she does leave intact, she’s going to have to leave Ymir. Her gaze shifts from the car to her tall companion. Ymir’s freckled face is watching Marco’s car with a mixture of boredom and respect. She must have realised Krista was staring because she looks down at that point with a small smile before reaching out and holding Krista’s hand. Ymir’s long, slender fingers fit well between her short pale ones, Krista thinks.

When he pulls up in front of his small audience there isn’t a single scratch on the car. Jean claps and yells encouragement, clearly excited from the spectacle before rushing up to Marco and high-fiving his best friend. Ymir rolls her eyes before pulling Krista towards them.

Marco shrugs Jean off him. “I figured we’ll sit in the car. I’ll show you how to drift and then you can give it a shot. He motions to the car he was just driving. “You can use this one in the race tonight. It’ll be good to use the one you practice in cause you’ll already have a feel for its handling!” He smiles again, squinting as he does so. He smiles a lot.

When Marco shows her, it seems simple enough. When she’s finally sat behind the wheel, her new mentor calmly guiding her, she feels confident and gets the hang of drifting quite easily. She feels free speeding along and quickly maneuvering around the obstacles. Like nothing can stop her. When she finishes, there is a scratch on the left side from where she was too close to a parked car, but it’s only small and it only happened once. Marco tells her he is very impressed at how fast a learner she is.  

When Krista climbs out of the car she’s instantly embraced by Ymir who is praising her and holding her tight claiming she’s a natural.

“Thank you, Ymi-”

“You are going to crush Annie tonight, I just know it!” The taller girl grins. 

Krista asks, “How many people are in the race tonight?”

“Sixteen places are available.” Jean replies from her left as he walks towards them. “Usually they get filled. You never know who you’re racing until you get there though. When we do we can quickly fill you in on tactics of the main contenders, give you a better chance.” 

Krista cannot help the smile that spreads across her face. These people are near strangers yet they are doing all they can to help Krista get into the 104. “Maybe I shouldn’t - what’s the phrase- look a gift horse in the mouth? But why are you helping me?”

Jean’s eyes narrow. “Are you making a horse joke?” For some reason, Ymir and Marco find this the funniest thing and are claimed by a fit of laughter and giggles. 

They all ignore Krista’s question, “Why don’t we practice for another half hour. We don’t want you to be tired before the race but you need to be prepared.” So Krista drives without Marco this time. She feels less confident when she starts but by the end of the half hour she feels relaxed and in control.

When she steps out of the vehicle, with a smile she confirms, “I’m ready.”


	6. Fresh Meat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry this took so long to update!! College has just been so busy suddenly I am an actual butthead. Hope you enjoy it

She’s not ready. At least she doesn't _feel_ ready.The crowd gathers by the pick-up point of the airport, adding to the thick, heavy air. Krista finds it hard to breath standing among them, waiting for the rest of the drivers to show. Ymir had driven her racing car there, luckily not scratching the vehicle before the race had even started. 

When Ymir disappears to plug the race course into Krista’s GPS she feels acid settle in the back of her throat and butterflies swarm in her stomach. She’s scared. Scared she might throw up, scared she’s going to fail, scared she’ll lose Ymir.

Which is the perfect time for Eren to sidle up to her and say with a blinding smile, “Relax. There’s only like a 15% chance you’ll die. Don’t worry about it!” He disappears easily in the crowd leaving Krista alone again. She suddenly feels like she’s suffocating with the heat of the air and the crowds around her. Marco approaches her then, clearly sensing her apprehension.

“It’s okay to be nervous.” His voice calms her slightly. “Just focus on your driving and your surroundings.” She nods confidently. “You see that red car there?” he points to the extremely customized, bright red car in the centre of the road, waiting for the race to start. “That’s Oluo. He plays dirty and isn’t afraid to scratch up that pretty car of his for first place. Stay clear of him okay, he can be dangerous.” He opens his mouth to continue on a new thought, but Connie yells his name in the distance, waving him over, his face apologetic and frantic. Marco excuses himself leaving Krista to her own company.

She looks up to the night sky, tinged orange with light from the street-lamps. There are no stars in the sky; they’re too close to the city for stars. 

When she was younger, her mother once told her that the stars were angels waiting to grant her wishes. Krista stopped believing that a long time ago, but when she was put under her father’s custody she wished on the stars again for freedom and love. When Ymir approaches to tell her the car is ready, Krista thinks that maybe the angels were just taking their time so she’d appreciate it more. 

The smell of petrol burns the inside of her nose as she climbs into her waiting vehicle. The door stays open as Ymir lingers, still waiting for the last few stragglers to get into positions. “Krista,” Ymirs face is flushed with embarrassment as she fumbles in her pocket for something. “In the old days like when they rode horses and used swords and shit they had these things called jousts and” Ymir rubs the back of her neck, “Well when women wanted a knight to win they’d give them like a token for good luck or whatever.” From her pocket, Ymir pulls something small and places it in Krista’s palm. It feels fuzzy in her hand. “My mother gave it to me on my first day of school as some kind of good luck charm.” In the dim lights, Krista makes out a small keyring sat on her palm. It’s a small brown teddy bear in a dark, tiny jumper. Krista can just make out the red colour of the jumper and the clear words sewed on in white that read ‘HOPE.’

Ymir looks down to the floor, avoiding any eye contact as she rolls on the balls to the heels of her feet. Krista feels amazed how lucky she is to have found Ymir, to be in this position. She’s floored at the gravity of the gesture. The measly ‘thank you’ she says doesn’t capture her emotion or her gratitude, but it seems to calm Ymir enough that she stops rocking on her feet and sends a small smile towards the blonde.

Yells are heard through the street as drivers are called to set up and get ready for the race to begin. Two girls dressed in barely anything stand in front of the mass of vehicles, flags in hand, flirting to some of the spectators nearby while they wait for non-drivers to leave the area. 

Ymir’s hands bracket the open door. She looks like she doesn’t want to leave Krista. “Play it smart and safe,” Is her advice.

“I’ll try.” The conversation seems to have come to a natural end but Ymir doesn’t leave and Krista doesn’t want her to either. Ymir stays there for as long as possible. She just stands next to Krista until one of the race girls comes up and asks her to move so they can stop the race. 

Ymir nods and the woman returns to her post. Ymir doesn’t look at her. “Good luck, Historia.” Before she knows what’s happening, her car door is slammed shut and a white flag appears at the start line. Engines around her start revving and the sound it creates is so deafening she can’t think.

The flag comes down suddenly and she isn’t prepared for the sudden rush of movement, but somehow her body saves her and takes control. Adrenaline courses through her blood stream as her foot hits the pedal, jolting her forward and nearly causing her to hit the car in front. The blast of a horn pulls her out of her daze and she bring her focus on her driving. She’s weaving on the road, blocking those behind her from any passage forward. She doesn’t mean to and adjusts herself so she has more control over the vehicle. 

She becomes vaguely aware that the cars behind her seem to fade away in the distance or are easily lost behind tight corners. She’s not in first but she is far from last. She’s slowly gaining on the car in front of her. The one that holds the Titan emblem. The car Annie is driving. Krista doesn’t know much about the illusive blonde. She only knows that the mood shifts dramatically at a mention of her name and that she hurt the family Krista is trying to become a part of. Her eyes flick to the bear on the dashboard of the car. She wonders if Annie hurt Ymir. 

She’s overtaken by a car and mentally scolds herself for allowing an inappropriately timed internal monologue to distract her from the task at and. She pushes forward and reclaims her place in front of the blue car she doesn’t recognise. She’s lost sight of Annie and remembers that she needs to place before her if she wants to be considered trustworthy. A glance towards the GPS tells her the race is almost at an end. The finish line is near. She’s lucky that they come onto a straight strip of road. She sees Annie a few feet ahead of her. Krista accelerates as much as she can. The wheel vibrates under the tight grip of her knuckles and she can’t feel her hands as she catches up with the Titan. 

The finish is at the end of the straight and so she tries with all her might to overtake the other. She manages to drive next to her as the finish gets closer. She looks over into the car next to her to see Annie, her face hard with slight anger etched into her features. At any other time, Krista would think about how unique her features were. As it is, those thoughts disappear as she crosses the finish line, unsure whether she’s placed before Annie or not.

Krista slows the car down to a halt where she sees the 104th congratulating Marco who is receiving the prize money for first place. Ymir detaches herself from the group and makes her way towards Krista as the blonde climbs out of the car. “You either came fourth or fifth.”

Krista frowns, “Was it that close?”

“Yeah,” Ymir points towards a small group of people, huddled in conversation. “They’re currently deliberating who crossed the line first, you or Annie.” Ymir’s hands bury themselves deep into the pockets of her thin jacket. They stand in silence for a moment, watching the ‘officials’ discuss. It’s strange, Krista thinks, that her future is in the hands of some half-drunk men and women who aren’t wearing much. Not two days ago, her future was determined by two old people and her father, none of whom ever spoke to her. Watching them, she hopes that after today, whatever the outcome, she’ll have more of a say in her life. Ymir turns to Krista, worry etched on her face. “You didn’t get hurt at all did you?”

“No,” Krista shakes her head, blushing. She must have been thinking so hard Ymir thought she would pop a blood vessel. “If I didn’t beat Annie-”

“I’m not leaving you.” Ymir interrupts. The comment takes Krista by surprise. “If they don’t let you join, I will try persuade them. If they don’t listen to me I’m leaving them. We can fend for ourselves.”

Ymir’s face is stoney. Krista shuffles awkwardly on her feet and leans against the hood of her car. “You don’t have to do that for me.” She protests quietly.

“Maybe I’m not gonna do it for you. I joined the 104th because it gave me a sense of being a part of something greater. I felt like I had purpose. But maybe that purpose has changed.” Ymir finally looks at her. “I know I only met you yesterday, but I can’t help but feel this is- It’s like- I want to be with you every step. I, uh, wanna protect you and shit and just watch and help you find yourself and I dunno.” Ymir trails off, looking to her feet. Krista can still see her face blushing deep red. 

“Ymir,” she says gently. The taller woman lifts her head. Krista opens her mouth to say something, but she can’t think of how to express her feelings. She lifts a pale hand to Ymir’s cheek instead. Ymir’s eyes widen slightly at the gesture, before leaning into it and leaning her head closer to Kristas, lips pouted slightly and Krista can’t help but smile because it was finally happening! Her first kiss! Oh shit but what did she do? Should she lean up? Should she use tongue? How should she use tongue? 

Her thoughts halted when Ymir’s soft lips pressed against the side of her mouth gently and she retreated again. It wasn’t what Krista expected, but it was still a kiss and wide smile spread across her face. 

She didn’t know that Mikasa and Armin had been watching from their small gathering, a small smile on Armin’s face, Mikasa her default stoney expression. Meanwhile Reiner and Annie have approached the group discussing their places, getting into a heated argument. 

Ymir rested her chin on top of Krista’s head, pulling the smaller woman into a hug. They’re both oblivious to everything around them. They don’t know all the cars have finished the race, they don’t know Reiner is trying to bribe the judges, and they don’t know Armin is standing right next to them until he clears his throat. They jump away from each other in surprise and turn to a smirking Armin. 

Ymir huffs out in annoyance, but Armin doesn’t address her. “Krista,” He starts, “You really are a superb driver and even if you didn’t beat Annie, you were extremely close. I’m sure we’ll find out soon but remember that she’s been doing this for years and this was your first drag race. You’ve got some crazy potential and it would be unwise of us not to offer you a place in our crew.” It takes all Krista’s strength not to pull Armin into a hug. “We’ll have to make sure you can handle yourself with a gun first and possibly show you how to sneak around without getting caught but as for now, welcome.” He doesn’t offer her his hand to shake, instead he gives her an angelic smile and returns to Mikasa and the rest to discuss. 

Ymir lifts Krista off the ground into a hug in her excitement, hollering and cheering into the quiet night. Krista’s feet land back on the asphalt of the road and her face is suddenly peppered with kisses by Ymir. Ymir starts to talk at lightening speed, “I knew you could do this! This is what you want right? Because if not, say the word and I can still leave.”

Krista laughs at Ymir’s sudden burst of energy. “Yes I’m sure. Calm down!”

She was ready to go home with Ymir now, but they were still waiting for the decision to be made about who came fourth. Fourth place got a small money prize, else no one would care. Also Annie’s pride was on the line. 

Conveniently, at that moment one of the women left the group, making her way towards Krista. She thought that this might have been the best night of her life, but finding out she had come fourth made it all a little bit sweeter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last installment for this particular story in this universe/series but I’ve got ideas of one shots and slightly longer fics, some of which are yumikuri, some are jearmin. So I guess watch this space? Thank you so much for your kudos/comments/readership/ect. I love you all!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles taken from a GTA V missions/achievements of the same name.


End file.
